Someone To Watch Over Me
by The Room Stops
Summary: Will/April. What happens after Will and April's talk in the hallway in "The Rhodes Not Taken".


**Disclaimer: It's not a masterpiece; it's just a way for me to get my fan girlishness out.**

**Author's Note: What happens after Will and April's talk in the hallway in "The Rhodes Not Taken". Set after they perform Somebody To Love.**

April Rhodes observed the way the lights softly hit the floor beneath her, and sighed. She recalled _that_ moment, in the very place she was standing now. It had only lasted a few seconds, but for her, it had been 20 years in the making. The applause had been deafening. She'd been standing on Artie's chair, wanting to care about whether or not he could see under her skirt. Choosing to look at the audience leaping to their feet, but unable to tear her eyes off the kids, she remembered glancing over at Kurt and seeing his grin, having felt a sudden pang of guilt that she was there at all. And there it had been again, that same old familiar feeling of being some place she didn't belong. The feeling wasn't new for her, because even among her drinking buddies at the pub, April had never really belonged anywhere.

"You're still here…" A soft voice behind her made her jump.

"Yeah. I had to change. I'm gonna go, I promise. I have to catch that train to Branson, remember?" She winked playfully.

"You should go to New York, April. Broadway is waiting for you." Will said, without a hint of playfulness in his voice. April sat down at the edge of the stage, letting her feet dangle. A feeling of carelessness that she hadn't felt since she was 11 came over her.

"There's nothing for me in New York, Will. At least in Branson I have a shot." He came to sit down beside her and turned to look at her.

"Yes, there is. You don't see how good you are, do you?" His voice softened as he looked down at her shaking hands.

"I know I can sing. But in New York, saying 'I can sing' is like saying I like fries or I lost my virginity on prom night. Except I don't, and I didn't. My point is, in New York, I'm just one of a million other people who 'can sing'. In Branson, I could do all right. In Branson, I could be April Rhodes, lead cabaret act or April Rhodes, smoky nightclub singer. In New York, I'd be number 968. Just one of many. I've spent my life that way, Will, being one of many." April shrugged, more to convince herself than him.

"No--- That's what I'm trying to say. You're different. When you sing, you don't just sing. You are the song. Every part of that song is in you. The lyrics tell us about your life, and in that moment, whoever you're singing to is yours. I don't think you even realize it - it's just instinct. When you did 'Maybe This Time' in front of the kids, I felt like I was back in high school. Like I was sitting in the back of this gym, right over there, listening to you sing 'The Power Of Love' in a way that would make Jennifer Rush and Celine Dion cry. I heard you sing 'It Must Have Been Love' better than Roxette. Like your life depended on it. And at that moment, I felt just like I did back then. Maybe it doesn't look like it did back then, but it felt exactly the same. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, and when you performed, it felt like you were singing to me. That's a gift, April. Not a lot of people have it." The memory of April letting it rip on the refrain gave Will the old familiar goose bumps.

"Rachel does." April wasn't sure how to feel about Rachel. Their encounter in the ladies room still annoyed her.

"Rachel's good. Actually, she's really good. She has an amazing talent, but she doesn't have that same instinct. Everything she knows she's taught herself, and she works every single second of her day to be who she dreams of becoming. But before that, she needs to learn humility and co-operation, and then, she'll be a star. She will. Rachel has a beautiful voice, but even with all of that, she's not you. She didn't have ten sometimes-obnoxious teenagers gaping with a rendition of a song they don't know and don't really care about. That doesn't mean she's not talented or that she's not going to be something, it just means that some people, very few, have a gift that—I don't know where it comes from and I don't have it myself, but it's meant to be shared with the world."

"I hope she's not like me, because I don't want her to end up here. To finally have the applause she's dreamed of for 20 years, and feel like she doesn't belong. Rachel and I don't click, and I'm sure she won't be sad to see me leave… but I don't wish this life on anyone." April mentally kicked herself for the tear running down her cheek, and turned away from him.

"I know." Will said, quietly.

"Actually, in a way I kind of envy her."

"Why?"

"Because when I was her age, I _was_ her… I saw my share of bathroom stalls, stocked up on Kleenex in my backpack, and cleaned off slushies in the girl's locker room. Until I learned how to fight back. But unlike her, I didn't have a Will Schuester. Nobody cared who I was, or what I wanted once they heard me sing. They just wanted my song. So, they built me up, lavished me with praise and encouraged me to take the lead. But when Julliard rejected my try-out application because I didn't know until the day before, there wasn't anybody there to tell me they were sorry or offer to call the Dean and explain the situation. They didn't care, because they'd gotten what they wanted. We'd won. Nobody cared, except Vin. Some help he was. I guess, nothing's really changed in the last 15 years, except the hair. Well, for some of us." She forced a smile and ruffled her hand through his enviable curls. Will took her hand and held it in his as he spoke.

"I cared, April. You were a dream, a goddess. You could have had any guy you wanted. I just… I don't understand how this happened to you. I wish I'd known."

"I think I would have liked you in high school. But… we make the choices we make, and we have to live with them. I made my own mistakes, Will; it's on me. I knew, even then, that Vinnie wasn't the one."

"But --- you could have had anyone." He squeezed her hand gently.

"Vinnie was fun, and he believed in me. I mean, he really believed I was going to be a star. That we'd both be stars. We broke up for a while, I got pregnant and Vinnie stepped up to the plate. But then… Ralph happened, then the twins were born and then Ralph really happened. I found him and Vinnie doing the horizontal in my van after I'd covered both their shifts for 12 hours. The twins and I left, moved into my mom's for a while. Do you know what an alcoholic and a poor, single mom with two moody 2-year-olds make?"

"No."

"A big stinkin' mess. At least I'm laughing about it now. Wasn't so funny back then." She took a deep breath. She wasn't sure if telling Will her life story was the right thing to do, but a quick pro/con discussion with herself told her it couldn't do anymore harm than she'd already done.

"Where are the twins?"

"Foster care. I see them when I can. They don't like seeing me when I'm… you know. So I stay away. I think that's the best thing I've ever done."

"Having the twins?"

"No. That's the second best thing I've ever done. But I'm giving them a life. I'm not a mom, Will. I can't even get my own life in order. But there are times when I think maybe… just maybe… I could be good for them. And it lasts about two seconds. Then Barry gets a new shipment of the single malt, and it's just so much easier to do what you know. I want to be a good person, Will, but I can't promise that I'll never be tempted by a really good box of Chablis or Barry's single malt. I can't tell you that I won't want to down a fist full of Xanax to ease the pain of rejection, but I'll try. I have to. I don't want to die like this. I don't want the girls to find out I didn't even try." More tears ran down her cheeks as she tried forcing herself to stop. Her hands were shaking as he turned to her.

"I'll help you."

"No. I mean, thank you, but I have to do this on my own. I wanna make it, and I need to stop depending on cheap booze and rich men to get me through life."

"I'm not rich."

"Will…"

"I know. I just want you to know that I'm proud of you." April turned away quickly, taking a deep breath as she did. "What? Did I say something?" Will touched her arm.

"That's --- I've never heard that before. No one's said that to me."

"Nobody told you they were proud of you? Not even your parents?"

"You mean Boozy and Lazy?" The memory of her mother chasing her through the house at age 6 asking, rather yelling, if she'd taken her bottle of vodka while throwing her father's empty Johnnie Walker bottles after her, stung in her heart. She touched the tiny scar on the back of her neck as she forced a laugh for Will's sake.

"Grandparents?"

"Ignored me."

"Teachers?"

"Didn't really give a damn. At least not the ones I had."

"I'm so sorry, April. Every kid should hear that somebody's proud of them."

"You keep saying you're sorry, Will. Don't. Yeah, I had a crappy childhood. I didn't have parents who drove me to practice or praised me when I got an A. I would have stayed with my grandparents, but outside of a card and a 10 dollar bill every Christmas; they didn't really acknowledge the child of their alcoholic daughter and her lazy-ass husband. My teachers? I don't think Mr. Fickleberry was that interested in my knowledge of infamous dictators while he was screwing me in a hotel room paid for by his wife. Unbeknownst to her of course. She came from money, and as long as she had a drink in her hand by 2 o'clock, she was happy. Oh my god. I'm Erica Fickleberry. That's my punishment for doing her husband, isn't it?" She looked into the dark auditorium, as if it held the answer.

"April…"

"I know. Don't be sorry for me, Will. Life's not fair. It just - isn't."

"You're gonna change your life, and if you get on stage in New York, you're going to change somebody else's life. And I am proud of you, April. Remember that. Even if you fail, which I don't think you're going to, at least you tried. I believe in you, and when you have your first show, there better be a first-row ticket in my mailbox." He winked, making her giggle girlishly in response.

"You bet. Thank you, Will… Thanks for letting me sort of fulfill my dreams."

"Sort of? You just sang the pants off everyone here tonight." He laughed.

"And that was incredible. I've just always had this dream of singing 'Someone To Watch Over Me'. When you grow up in a house where nobody's sober enough to know if you're there or not, dreams are how you get through. If I ever get to do a concert, that's the one song I know is going on the set list."

"Oh come on, we can do better than that. Follow me." He got up, helped her up in the process.

"Where are you going?" Will begins to play soft, familiar notes. "Will…"

"Come on. I did put you in a decent motel room, fed you and gave you a very undeserved B in Spanish. Do it for me." He flashed her his most adorable smile.

"You're a goof, you know that?"

"Coming up on the beginning of the first verse. It's now or never, Ms Rhodes. Are you a serious performer, or are you a quitter?"

"You --- Fine. Play it, Schuester. And none of those frills and happy notes Tinkles tends to throw in there." She threw her jacket to the floor, her signature move.

_There's a saying old says that love is blind  
Still we're often told, seek and ye shall find  
So I'm going to seek a certain lad I've had in mind_

April took a deep breath. She took careful steps away from the piano and looked into the far dark of the auditorium.

_  
Looking everywhere, haven't found him yet  
He's the big affair I cannot forget  
Only man I ever think of with regret  
I'd like to add his initial to my monogram  
Tell me, where is the shepherd for this lost lamb? _

The words reflected in her mind. They flowed out of her as if they were her own. Her story. Her heart.

_There's a somebody I'm longing to see  
I hope that he turns out to be  
Someone who'll watch over me  
I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood  
I know I could always be good  
To one who'll watch over me_

Somehow, her eyes had sought him behind the piano, trying desperately to read his reactions to the words she'd sung. Things that she'd never dare to tell him.

_Although he may not be the man some  
Girls think of as handsome  
To my heart he carries the key  
Won't you tell him please to put on some speed  
Follow my lead, oh, how I need  
Someone to watch over me_

Her eyes closed, his face stuck on her mind. God, she hated herself for being an addict. Addicted to substance, and addicted to, without wanting to, easily falling in love with anyone who gave a damn and showed her even 5 seconds of pity free attention.

"Wow. That felt amazing." Her breath rapid, her eyes gleaming. Will couldn't help but smile.

"I don't even know what to say. April, if you don't get a job by your second week in New York, I'm personally contacting every casting director in town."

"I'm sure they'd be terrified by the big, bad Will Schuester." She winked.

"I mean it. You have a gift. I believed every word you just sang." April whispered to herself, 'I meant every word' "That's a big, bad Will Schuester exclusive. Hot off the presses."

"Thanks. Well… I guess I better get on with it. New York's a long journey ahead." She picked up her jacket and took another deep breath.

"Do you have enough money?"

"Will, I'm a big girl. I could use a drink, if you're buying." Will grimaced. "Too soon?"

"Little bit. Look, don't worry about New York, ok? You're gonna knock their socks off."

"Ok. I guess I'll believe anything that comes out of your mouth. Wish me luck!" She said energetically.

"You don't need it. Thank you for giving one guy his childhood fantasy."

"Yeah?"

"We all have that one intangible girl that we dream of."

"Well, I'm honored." April smiled shyly.

"You should be. There were some seriously hot chicks out there. Madonna was pretty much the general hottie back then, but I didn't care, I couldn't get you out of my head."

"Take care of yourself, Will Schuester."

"You too. Send me a postcard from the Big Apple."

"I'll do you one better, send you a t-shirt. Number one fan."

"I'll be wearing it proudly." He gently took her small hand in his, her eyes meeting his in the dim lights. "You're amazing."

"I, uh…" She caught her breath. "…- I have to go. My train's leaving. Goodbye, Will."

"Bye."

________

April mustered all the willpower she had to keep walking away as she approached the exit. But as she saw the exit signs shining brightly green in the dark, she felt herself turn back towards the auditorium. She felt her heart skip a half-beat more than it should, when she heard Will play the notes of the song she'd just let pour out of her heart.

"Schuester."

"April? Did you forget something?" She dropped her bags on the stage floor.

"I'm… Actually, I don't know what I'm doing, but my train's leaving in an hour, so I kind of have nothing to lose."

"What, I'm con---" Will's words were swallowed by soft, gentle lips meeting his. She tasted like strawberry ice cream. Will loved strawberry ice cream.

Will hadn't had a first kiss for almost 20 years. It didn't feel the way he remembered his first kiss with his wife. Whereas Terri had been shy, almost seemed unwilling; April was almost forceful, standing on her tiptoes, her hand pulling him down by the lapels of his blazer. When she broke away, he couldn't breathe. He couldn't remember ever feeling this wonderfully breathless before. The scent of her hair lingered, his lips tasted like strawberry ice cream.

"Terri's a lucky woman, Will. And these kids are incredibly lucky, and they don't know it. Don't let them go without a fight, ok? Whatever happens, don't give up. Give them the chance they deserve."

"I will." April started to walk away again. "April? What was that, just now?"

"It may not be a 16 year long crush, but I've wanted to kiss you since you sat beside me on a dirty sidewalk, looking at me without pity and with nothing but hope and goodness in your eyes. I'm sorry. I know it wasn't right, and all that… don't-kiss-a-married-guy crap. But before I leave all of this behind, before I change my life - and while the booze is still in my system - I just had to do that."

"I guess I finally got to kiss the girl. It's our secret."

"Be happy, Will Schuester. If nothing else, you've changed one life. For a guy running a Glee club in Lima, Ohio, on a non-existing budget, that's pretty good."

"Yeah it is."

April felt his eyes watching her as she picked up her bags, the tingly feeling in her lips assuring her if things were different… She took a deep breath and felt the emotion of looking into the crowd applauding like madmen, jump back at her. The hallway seemed impossibly long at that moment, but wherever the road led her, she felt grateful for the unknown ahead.


End file.
